


Tender

by ThrowTheDice



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reader-Insert, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-06
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2020-10-10 23:01:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20536046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThrowTheDice/pseuds/ThrowTheDice
Summary: It all started with you getting lost in the woods.A chance encounter with the Hillbilly in the woods surrounding the campfire leads to an unlikely friendship. Feelings bud and begin to bloom, but what happens when you encounter your new friend in a trial?





	Tender

**Author's Note:**

> This was first posted to my tumblr a few months ago, but since Max deserves more love and appreciation, I decided to post it here as well.  
Also, I just want to explain that I headcanon that Max is capable of speaking, but it’s hard for him and can be painful. Sometimes he can’t get the words to come out right, and he gets frustrated, so he prefers to just not say anything at all. Okay, now that that’s out of the way, NSFW below!

It all started with you getting lost in the woods. All you had wanted was to get away from your fellow survivors. A group of them had come back from a trial and immediately started blaming each other for how it had gone. It had all come to a head when Ace made a smart comment and David threw a punch. From what you could gather, they had found themselves attempting to escape the Clown, and David blamed Ace for getting him caught. Whether or not there was truth to the accusation was unknowable, but you did know that you didn’t want to stick around for the ensuing fight. So you left.

Turning your back on the campfire was easy. However, allowing yourself to slip into the shadows between the gnarled, monstrous trees was like diving into freezing water. You immediately felt the sheer emptiness of the forest. The silence was deafening, and for the first time since you had been pulled into the Entity’s realm, you felt alone. You had never known such intimate loneliness. The knowledge that it was just you out there was stifling, without even the hollow mimicries of crow calls to give you comfort.

You should turn back, you thought as you began to waver beneath the weight of your solitude. However, you were quick to realize that you were no longer sure from which direction you had come. The trees all looked the same, and it wasn’t as if you had been following a path to begin with. The underbrush crunched beneath your feet, twigs snapping and dry leaves crackling loudly. Your body buzzed with anxious energy as your thoughts chased each other in fruitless circles of panic and fear. Your wide eyes scanned the horizon, but you saw nothing as you continued to weave between tree trunks.

You paused to take a moment to ground yourself, trying to place your train of thought back onto a more rational track. That was when you heard footsteps that were not your own. You whipped around, attempting to locate the source of the noise. Maybe one of the others had noticed your absence and come to take you back. You hoped they knew the way better than you did. Yet as you looked around, you did not find another survivor.

You saw him before he noticed you.

The misshapen, knobbly silhouette of the Hillbilly lumbered through the trees. His crooked gait and uneven steps caused his movement to be even louder than your own had been, crashing through the forest with reckless abandon. The closer he got, the more you could hear his labored, gurgling breathing as it rattled through his chest and out of his open mouth. You looked for the chainsaw and cattle hammer that you had learned to fear through repeated exposure to the acute pain they caused, but found him empty handed. You should run, you thought, but for some reason you were rooted to the spot. As you continued to watch him, you realized that there was no purpose in his steps as he limped along, he was not a predator stalking prey, but merely someone out for a stroll. He meandered past you, seemingly without a care in the world.

Once his back was to you, whatever spell it was that had frozen you released its hold. Not taking your eyes off of him you took a few steps backwards, intent on heading off in the opposite direction from where he was headed. One, two, three– crack! The sound of a twig snapping under foot was louder than a gunshot, and unfortunately you weren’t the only one to hear it.

He stopped suddenly, straightening up as best as his distorted spine would allow before turning in your direction. His glowing eyes were visible through the mask-like coverage of his own malformed skin, and they sought you out in the gloom. You expected him to come flying at you when he found your form, to run you down like he did in trials, carving through you with the teeth of the chainsaw between the whispering stalks of corn. But he seemed just as frozen as you were. He did not move, he hardly seemed to breathe as the two of you were caught in each other’s gaze.

Finally, after a few seconds that each felt like an eternity, he began to move. You mentally began to count down the moments until he would fall upon you and tear you to shreds or bludgeon you until you were little more than a pulp of mangled flesh and bone, but instead he turned tail and ran off into the forest, as fast as his crooked legs would allow. You blinked as you watched his retreating form meld into the shadows, leaving you achingly alone once more.

He was afraid of you, you realized with a jolt.

It was mindboggling to think that a creature with the capacity to murder in such excruciating ways could possibly be scared of someone so blatantly solitary and defenseless. Even without the tools of his trade at his side, he was bigger and stronger than you, and would have no trouble bashing your head in with a rock or against a tree. He had proven time and again that he could hoist you over his shoulder with one arm like you weighed little more than a sack of potatoes, and yet you had just witnessed him flee from you in much the same manner as you and your fellow survivors had run from him in a trial. It was a puzzling turn of events to say the least.

You eventually managed to stumble your way back to the campfire. You mentioned your misadventures to noone, and none of them asked. Yet as you sat within the comforting ring of light surrounding the undying flames, you could not stop turning the nature of the encounter over in your mind. You found a dangerous sort of curiosity building within you, and it bubbled and clambered to be satisfied. Ever a servant to your own inquisitiveness, you found that you could not deny yourself.

You began to venture out into the darkness with increasing frequency in the downtime between the pain, torture, and dying. More than once, you encountered him as he meandered with the same lack of intent as he had the first time, but each time he spotted you, his demeanor changed abruptly and he ran. It was frustrating because each time you emerged with no more answers than you had entered, but more than anything these brief chance meetings were perplexing.

Finally, you decided to be more than a quiet observer, filled with a need for an explanation. As the Hillbilly turned his back on you once again to flee, you realized that you had had enough of whatever cyclical exchange (or lack thereof) the two of you had been engaged in. You were putting your foot down.

“Wait!” You cried, shattering the stillness of the darkness.

You weren’t sure how effective your plea would be in halting his retreat, but you were pleasantly surprised when his getaway was stalled. He glanced over his shoulder at you before hurriedly looking at the ground, like he wasn’t supposed to see you. But still, he remained.

You were struck momentarily by an unsureness. You honestly hadn’t expected to get this far, and suddenly all of the burning questions you had seemed to vanish from your mind. You stumbled over the multitude of possible words and phrases you could string together, finally settling on a question you had not thought to ask originally.

“Can you talk?”

His sloped shoulders were stiff as he shuffled around to face you. A sharp nod left him after a beat.

“Why do you keep running from me?”

He shrugged noncommittally, eyes flitting back and forth between you and the ground.

“What’s your name?”

He remained silent for a moment, and you thought perhaps that he either did not want to tell you or did not have a name to give.

“Max,” he said finally, voice surprisingly fragile in comparison to the rest of him. It sounded brittle, and almost as if it was painful for him to form the word.

“Okay, Max,” you felt breathless, adrenaline and excitement pulsing through you as the reality of your situation set in. You were talking to a killer! And he wasn’t trying to end your life or sacrifice you to the Entity! “I’m (Y/N).”

“(Y/N),” he repeated, and it sounded even more pained than his first word to you.

You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for what you wanted to say next. “You don’t have to run, you know. I won’t hurt you if you don’t hurt me.”

He seemed to consider your offer before shuffling a little closer to where you had planted yourself. You offered him a broad smile, and that was that.

It was strange, indulging your darker more morbid desires and seeking out companionship with one of the creatures set forth by the Entity to take your life in new and torturous ways again and again and again. Still, there was something undeniably honest in your time spent with Max. He didn’t say much, preferring to listen to you tell him stories about your life before all this. You asked him once why he didn’t speak and he had merely shrugged and said “Hurts.” When your memories failed and you ran out of things to talk about from your old life, you began to supplement with new stories about your fellow survivors. You told him about the time that Jake had somehow stolen one of the Trapper’s– Evan’s, Max had corrected you– bear traps and then goaded David into trying to disarm it by _punching the pressure plate and pulling his arm out really fast_. It went about as well as could be expected, but the story seemed to delight your new found friend.

Friend. It wasn’t a word you thought you would come to associate with a killer. Hell, it was a word you were hesitant to use for the other survivors. The significance of it flitting into your subconscious thoughts was not lost on you as you smiled up at the twisted, crooked man sitting next to you on a fallen tree trunk. You realized that you had begun to harbor soft, tender feelings in the hidden part of your heart that were reserved exclusively for him. Max was awkward and unpractised in the art of friendship and human interaction, but he tried his best and it was endearing. You felt a warmth flood your chest any time he made an effort to say your name, or when you saw the way that his disfigured face would light up and he would attempt to mimic your smile when he saw you. It was a slippery slope between friendship and something more, but you were happy to dive into it headlong. 

You had not encountered Max in a trial since beginning your relationship. You tried not to think about what would happen when you did. He would have to kill you, you supposed. You doubted that the Entity would take kindly to its killers playing favorites in trials. Still, the thought of feeling the chainsaw carving through your flesh and bone was not one you took comfort in, even if it was wielded by someone you cared about. No, you concluded, that would probably make it worse.

The Entity apparently was capable of monitoring your thoughts, and as always loved a cruel sort of irony. The next trial you found yourself partaking in saw you coming to in the center of a seemingly endless sea of gently shifting and swaying cornstalks. The air smelled of freshly tilled earth and distantly of smoke. All was still for a moment, but the harsh mechanical sound of a chainsaw suddenly tore through the silence and bore into your skull.

Your chest tightened with an unfamiliar dread. It wasn’t the same as what you felt at the outset of every trial, this wasn’t colored by terror but instead a sort of despair. Max had cut you down any number of times in the past, but it was different now. Before you hadn’t known him. Then he was simply the Hillbilly, one of the monsters whose only defining feature was that he was there to kill you. Now he was Max, your friend, someone you cared about far more deeply than you had admitted even to yourself.

It seemed like no time at all before you heard the first unmistakable sound of a survivor meeting a gory, ghastly fate under the bite of whirring metallic teeth. You tried to block the sound from your mind, but the screams pierced you to your core, rattling your resolve and sending your thoughts into a tizzy. The growling of the chainsaw never seemed to cease, and you could not steady the trembling of your entire body as you tried desperately to finish the generator you were working on near the horrific Sacrificial Tree beneath which you imagined you could still hear the mournful mooing of cows. You heard a grunt and the thick, meaty sound of a hammer striking someone, and chanced a glance over the top of the machine.

Jake dashed forward, limping distinctly as he headed for the crumbling stone walls surrounding the tree. He could stall Max there, you knew, if he could find the right number of turns and leaps, and time when to drop the pallet perfectly. However, you were working diligently on a generator _right here_, could Jake have taken him nowhere else?

“Come on, come on,” you urged yourself under your breath. If you could finish the generators and get out, you wouldn’t have to worry about Max catching you. You wouldn’t have to face what would undeniably be a dark spot in your relationship, even if you did understand why he had to do it.

With a triumphant cry, you connected the last wires that caused the generator to spring to life. You stood quickly despite the stiffness in your knees from crouching for so long. As you did, you looked towards where you thought Jake would be only to make eye contact with Max. Time slowed to barely a crawl as you held his gaze. You fancied you would have been able to see the turning of the chain on his favored weapon if you had bothered to look, but as it was your eyes were affixed firmly upon his. For a moment, he forgot about Jake entirely as he kept looking at you. You wondered if he had considered what he would do if he encountered you like this in a trial. Something in the way he looked at you told you that he hadn’t.

“Run!”

The sudden cry from Jake startled you out of the moment in time that you had almost allowed yourself to believe you were sharing with Max alone. You turned around and fled much in the same way Max had done to you all those times, and you heard his grunt of pain as Jake dropped the pallet on his head. You felt guilty for being glad that Jake had stunned him, but you would have felt guiltier for celebrating if Jake had been caught.

Another generator clicked on a considerable distance away. You wove between corn stalks, searching for the flickering of lights that indicated an incomplete generator. You heard someone working on one before you saw the lights. You burst through the corn to find Nea crouched, elbow deep in the mechanical guts of the generator. You stumbled up next to her and immediately got to work.

“I finished one,” she said by way of greeting. “He already got Feng Min, and the Entity took her before we could get to her.”

“I did the other, last I saw Jake was looping him by the cow tree.”

It felt normal, routine to talk to a fellow survivor so matter-of-factly. You could almost forget how heartbreakingly different this trial was from normal. You put your head down and got to work, repairing as quickly as you could. You thought back to what it had been like before all of this, before the trials and the running and dying. You had known nothing about repairing anything. Now it all seemed second nature. How long had you been here? You weren’t sure.

The generator sputtering one last time before beginning it’s consistent _put-put-put_ as it ran on its own scared you, nearly causing you to fall backwards onto your butt. Nea looked unimpressed as you staggered to your feet, and she grabbed your sleeve to drag you forward. 

“Let’s go,” she commanded, ushering you forward.

Your entire body tensed as you heard Jake scream in agony. Max had apparently finally caught up to him. You looked to Nea and she clucked her tongue as she realized the implications. The two of you had just been nearing the next generator.

She dragged a hand down her face and sighed as if the whole trial was just one massive inconvenience. “I’ll go get him,” she said, sounding none too thrilled about the rescue mission at hand.

You knew it was an act. She was skilled at avoiding killers and smart when rescuing other survivors. She wasn’t about to put forth a half-assed unhook attempt. She stalked off into the fog and corn with all the grace of a cat, leaving you alone once more.

You had trouble focusing on the generator. It had been some time since you had heard Max’s chainsaw, and there was no sign of Nea or Jake. It was quiet with the exception of the occasional crow call or the artificial wind whistling through the stalks. Your objective felt as if it was of secondary importance when compared to watching your surroundings, and on more than one occasion you caught yourself right before you were about to make a critical mistake and set back your progress. You hoped the others would emerge from the corn to join you, but they never came.

Finally you felt more than heard the burst of energy as the Entity tore its way through the sky to bear down on what must have been Jake still on the hook. How had Nea not made it to him in time? That was when a shrill scream of pained despair rang out, drowned out only by the grinding growl of the chainsaw. That wasn’t the scream of someone about to be hooked, no that was the undeniable scream of someone dying in agony. It was only you and Max now.

Since you had gotten to know him, you had never felt disquieted by the knowledge that you were alone with Max. Most of the time, you took great comfort in the solitary dynamic that the two of you had built, but in that moment seeing him was the last thing you wanted. 

You had to find the hatch.

You broke into a sprint, pushing yourself to run as fast as you could through the field, listening for that strange, otherworldly hum that the Black Lock always emitted. You craved the darkness that would swallow you whole only to deposit you back in the light of the campfire. You couldn’t bear the thought of dying at Max’s hand. You needed to escape so that you could run off into the forest afterwards to sit with him in that same aura of comfort and companionship without your blood on his hands to taint it.

Of course, nothing could be easy. Soon enough you heard the telltale grinding of chain and gears and felt your heartbeat kick into overdrive as Max sprinted at full tilt towards you. He was too fast, and there were no walls or windows for you to duck behind or jump through. Phantom pains sparked through your body as it prepared itself to be reacquainted with the exquisite torture it remembered. You dared to look at the speeding bullet of twisted skin and muscle barreling towards you, and it was hard to reconcile in your mind that this was the same Max that liked to sit quietly and listen to you tell stories.

As he closed the final few meters between the two of you, you screwed your eyes shut and waited for it to all be over. You didn’t want to see his face when he did it, didn’t want to know if he took any joy in cutting you down and carving you up. Ignorance is bliss, as they say. Although at this point you think whoever “they” are, they’re fools.

You heard the whirring come to a stop with a clunk and a grind, and after a couple seconds of silence, you dared to crack open one of your eyes. Max stared at you almost expectantly, chainsaw and hammer lowered, and posture unassuming and passive. He was waiting for you to do something, apparently just as unsure of how to deal with the situation as you were.

You opened your eyes fully and immediately felt them begin to water, a cocktail of varied emotions sweeping through you, relief and affection for the large man standing before you being the foremost. You wiped fruitlessly at the tears that now spilled over your eyes and streaked down your cheeks. Max shifted uncomfortably, obviously unsure of how to deal with your crying.

“Oh, Max,” you blubbered.

You tried to think of what to say to tell him how happy you were, how grateful. The Entity surely wouldn’t take kindly to him not harming you. It wanted a full meal of survivor souls, and Max had just denied it dessert. Words failed you, and you were at a loss, so you settled for throwing yourself bodily at him and wrapping your arms tight around his neck.

Max went stiff in your arms, clearly not expecting your display of affection. In the past, you had only been so bold as to hold his hand once, and even then only fleetingly. Max had never been hugged, had never experienced this kind of genuine, tender human emotion. He didn’t know how to respond, what was expected of him, so he froze. You would have liked for him to wrap you up in his arms in return, but you had learned enough of him by now to know that he probably had no idea that that was what he was meant to do. Max wasn’t unintelligent, but he was ignorant to many of the intricacies of human interaction.

You released your hold on him slowly, allowing yourself to lower back down to your feet. You cupped his face in your hands, smiling brightly up at him through the tears. Your heart fluttered happily when he returned it with his own crooked smile. God help you, you thought, you might just love him.

“Come on,” he prompted in his strangled, guttural voice that you so rarely got to hear. 

He led you through the corn and you were more than happy to follow. He limped just ahead of you, and you wished that he didn’t have his weapons so that you could hold his hand. You heard the hum that you had been so desperately searching for only a few minutes prior, and a fresh wave of tears gathered in your eyes. Max saw the waterworks when he turned back to present the hatch to you, and you saw the confusion and concern in his body language. He thought he had done something wrong.

You shook your head vehemently in response to his unvoiced question. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Max. I’m so happy and grateful.”

Not knowing how better to reassure him of your sincerity, you grasped the front of his ruined shirt in your hands and pulled him down to you. He could have easily resisted, but he allowed you to tug him towards you so that you could pepper his face in kisses. His skin was warm and leathery beneath your lips, but you didn’t let that faze you. In the face of your overt affection, he froze again, a reaction that was not unexpected.

The loud _thunk_ of the chainsaw and hammer hitting the ground simultaneously startled you, but did not deter you from your continued assault of his cheeks and forehead with a flurry of hurried pecks. You could not help the joyful giggle that bubbled up in your chest when he wrapped his arms around you in the first hug he had ever given anyone. His own gurgled laugh came in response as he lifted your feet from the ground and spun you in a circle. You wrapped your legs around his hips to anchor yourself, and feeling bold, planted your lips squarely against his.

The action gave him pause. This was a new form of affection he hadn’t expected. Your lips on his face had felt nice, they kind of tickled with their feather-light brushes, but this felt entirely different. You had closed your eyes despite the way his widened, and your arms were locked firmly back around his neck. You made a sound in the back of your throat and he was suddenly acutely aware of how warm his body felt and the way you were pressed against him. He wanted to reciprocate, to let you know that he very much liked this feeling and wanted more of it.

For your part, you were enjoying kissing Max as much as he was enjoying being kissed. You would be lying if you said that you hadn’t considered what it would be like. What would his lips feel like? Would it be very difficult with the way his mouth was formed? Would he even want you to kiss him? In one moment of throwing care to the wind, you had answered all of those questions. His lips felt very much like the rest of his skin, leathery and slightly twisted, but not unpleasant in their warmth. It was not too hard, just required a slightly abnormal approach. And if the way his arms tightened around you was any indication, he definitely wanted you to continue kissing him.

You shifted against him, pelvis grinding against his, and you could not contain the gasp that left you when he whined at the feeling. There was no mistaking the heated hardness you had felt against your sex despite the separating layers of clothes. Much like your initial interaction, you found yourself at a loss, never planning for a moment such as this. You unwrapped your legs from around him and lowered your feet back to the ground. He made a sound of displeasure somewhere between a moan and a whine at the loss of friction, and looked near distraught when you pulled your lips away from his. He kept his arms wound tightly around you, unwilling to let you go just yet, not with the way his whole body was burning. The way you made him feel.

“I need you to trust me,” you whispered breathlessly, despite the fact that no one was around to hear you.

You pushed on his chest just enough to create enough space for you to maneuver. Your fingers worked quickly to unbutton your shirt and then you slid it off of your shoulders and let it fall to the ground. Your bra was next on your list of clothing that needed to come off as quickly as possible, fumbling with the clasp behind your back and sighing with satisfaction when it finally came loose. You slipped the thin straps off and you watched it tumble down to mingle with your shirt in the dust and dirt. Glancing up at Max, the best word you could think of to describe the look on his face was “awestruck”.

He had an unfamiliar desire to be the one removing your clothing, but he was loath to put a stop to what you were doing. As more and more of your silky skin was revealed to him, he felt more and more of that all consuming heat building under his skin and settling in his groin. His pants were far too tight suddenly, and he wanted them off almost as much as he wanted to peel the rest of your clothing off of you.

You felt a bubbling sort of embarrassment at the intensity with which Max stared at you, but along with it came a sense of pride. He wanted you, quite badly apparently, and that knowledge was accompanied by a warm feeling and a whole new confidence. You halted your stripping before you came to your pants, wanting to get Max out of some of his clothing. You started with the shredded tank top that hardly even qualified as a shirt anymore, coaxing him to raise his arms and allow you to divest him of the ruined garment. It was another piece added to the rapidly growing pile of clothing you were accumulating.

His exposed chest hardly appeared human, little more than a twisted mass of flesh with hardly anything you would be able to identify as anatomically natural musculature, but that did not stop you from running your hands over the expanse reverently. You glanced up at him from beneath your eyelashes, looking for any sign that he wanted you to stop. When you received no objections, you followed your wandering hands with your mouth, pressing opened mouth kisses across his chest and torso. He tasted like salt and sweat, and reacted extremely positively to this new treatment. You allowed your hands to drift lower, fingers dancing across his torso and teasing at the edge of his pants. You heard him suck in a rattling breath, and you watched him clench and unclench his hands at his sides.

“Do you want to keep going?” You asked, marveling at the husky tone of your own voice.

Max nodded sharply, a needy sound erupting from the back of his throat and surprising you both. You could not help the grin that overtook your features as he raised his hands to tug at your jeans. You obliged him, unfastening the button and sliding the zipper down before wiggling the denim down your hips with your underwear. You gave him no time at all to take in your nudity before your fingers were back at his waistband, undoing his belt and tugging it through the loops. 

As you worked at the fastenings on his dirty, distressed jeans that were just a little too big for his hips, you considered dropping to your knees and taking him in your mouth. You wondered if his cock would be as rough and irregular as the rest of his skin. What would it feel like to drag your tongue up the underside of it? What would he taste like? You could tell that he was already hard beneath the barrier his pants provided, you were willing to bet that he would be leaking precum when you finally freed him, and the thought of collecting its saltiness while lapping at the head of his length left your mouth watering.

You knew that you didn’t have the patience to follow through with that plan, and you doubted that Max would last that long considering what your admittedly tame kissing had done to him. You were fine to put that fantasy on the backburner, already wet and aching for him to fill you up. You released a shaky breath that you hadn’t known you were holding when you finally dragged the jeans down his legs and his hardened length sprung free, already twitching with precum spilling from the slit of his swollen head. His cock looked surprisingly normal, with the exception of some extra skin bunching around the base and some interesting discoloration along the shaft. The most noticeable thing about it was how big he was. Max was a large man, and his member was more than proportionate.

You wrapped your hand around him as best you could and gave him a few quick jerks with a flick of your wrist. He keened, panting under your touch and curling forward to lean his forehead against the top of your head, burying his face in your hair. You watched with nothing short of fascination as his abdominal muscles rippled and his cock twitched in your grip.

You wanted to feel him inside of you immediately.

“Max,” you cooed, prompting him to look at you.

He whined when you took your hand away from him, but was intrigued when you wrapped your arms back around his neck and pulled him down with you to the ground. You reclined backwards, ignoring how strange the dirt and soil felt against your bare skin. You parted your legs and prompted Max to kneel between them. Your hungry eyes soaked in the way his cock bobbed as he settled himself between your spread thighs. He in turn studied the way your pussy dripped with arousal, the heady scent overwhelming his senses and sending his thoughts scattering. His heart beat loudly in his chest, and he thought it might just stop when you took his hand that wasn’t supporting his weight as he loomed over you and brought it to your folds.

You were so warm and wet beneath his rough, calloused fingertips. You guided his fingers on where to touch and how much pressure to use. Your breathing came out in harsh, heavy puffs of heated air the rolled across his neck and chest. You gasped when he found your entrance and slipped one crooked finger inside. He was nearly stunned by the feeling of your silken walls clenching down on his finger. You were so tight, it was thrilling to imagine that feeling on other parts of him. Every instinct he had was telling him to bury his cock as deep as he could into that dizzying heat between your legs and to not let you go until he had filled you with everything he had.

Your instincts were apparently driving you to the same conclusion, because he had barely just began his exploration of your body before you were pushing his hand away and pulling his hips closer to the cradle of your own with your legs around his waist. You spread yourself for him and wrapped a hand around his length to guide him in. You both moaned as his head dragged along your slick, spreading his fluids across your lips and becoming coated in your arousal. His hips bucked of their own accord at the feeling, and all of his senses were suddenly screaming that it was absolutely imperative he be inside of you. You couldn’t agree more, moaning wantonly at the unbearable friction caused by the drag of his sex against your own.

“Max, please,” you begged, wiggling your hips towards him.

He didn’t need any convincing, but the sound of your pleas tumbling from you pretty lips sent a jolt down his spine and straight to his cock. With a little less delicacy than was probably due, he thrust forward, pushing into you and drawing a high-pitched wail from you as the head popped past your entrance. It took all of his self-control not to lose himself in the feeling of being wrapped in the tightness of your walls. He forced himself to still his hips in order to check on you.

Your face was flushed and glistening with a sheen of sweat. He watched a bead of it form on your forehead and drip down your reddened cheeks. You hair was slicked with it already, and your lips were parted to allow your heavy breathing and intoxicating moans to escape. Your chest heaved with each panting intake and exhale of air. Your eyes were half lidded, pupils blown wide as you took in the sight of him above you. He looked down to where the two of you were joined, and the sight alone was nearly enough to make him come undone.

He felt even better inside of you than you had thought he would. The stretch was unlike anything you had ever experienced, leaving you feeling more full than you knew you could. Every twitch and pulse of his cock was like electricity sparking through your core. You knew that he had paused for your sake, and the gesture was appreciated, but you thought you really would go insane if he didn’t start moving. You knew that anything you would try to say would come out as nothing more than garbled nonsense, so you took matters into your own hands and rolled your hips into his.

That first undulation of your pelvis grinding into his had Max seeing stars. He never knew he could feel anything like this. He must have done something very right for the Entity to allow this, to allow him to have a chance to experience this. You had to be a gift, a reward that he couldn’t imagine he could possibly deserve. He was frozen by the immense pleasure that threatened to overwhelm him.

You cupped his face in your smaller hands and forced him to look at you. “Max, I need you to move.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. His first few thrusts were stuttered and jerky, but he soon fell into a rhythm that rapidly pushed you both towards your ends. His hips pistoned into yours, drilling his cock into the most sensitive parts of your eager cunt. The sound of skin against skin and varied grunting, moans, and gasps comprised the soundtrack of your coupling. Your hands gripped his biceps as you clung to him for dear life, fingers dragging over his twisted skin and feeling the metal staples embedded into parts of his flesh.

Max looked down at your body beneath his with a sort of disbelief. Each sharp slam of his lower body against yours sent a jolt through yours. Your breasts bounced tantalizingly, and he had the sudden urge to capture one of their rosy peaks in his mouth. He lamented that your current position didn’t allow for him to fulfill that fantasy comfortably, and saved such an idea for if he should be so lucky that you would allow him this again. You gripped him so well, your body tight and wet and warm around him. He felt a sort of tightening in his lower body and was spurred on to thrust faster into you, causing your staccato moans to turn into unintelligible mewling.

You knew Max was close, his thrusts were becoming sloppier and more disjointed, and his breathing was harsh and strained above you. You were quickly approaching your own climax, but you knew that you wouldn’t come before he finished. That didn’t stop you from meeting his thrusts as best you could with what little leverage you had. The fire burning in your core was white hot in its intensity, and you were so close to what you wanted– no, needed.

Max’s hips slammed into yours one final time as he hilted himself in your cunt. You couldn’t help the gasp that was ripped from you as his head bumped up against your cervix right before you felt a rush of warmth flood through you. The groan that accompanied his release was borderline inhuman, and you wanted to hear more of it. You felt cum leak from where you were still joined and drip down your ass. You were still right on the precipice, but your pleasure would wither and die if you didn’t maintain some kind of stimulus.

You tried to continue rolling your hips into his, but Max was stock-still above you, basking in what you were sure was the warm glow of his first orgasm. You wanted desperately to join him in that paradise, but you needed some assistance first. You gripped his forearms harder.

“Max, honey, I need you,” you pleaded, voice low and sensual despite your desperation. “I need you to touch me like I showed you. Can you do that for me?”

He shifted his weight to one arm in jerky, pleasure-addled movements. He did not withdraw from his place inside you, but he allowed his thumb to fall to the little nub you had shown him before, above where the two of you were still joined. You whined as he circled your clit just a little too lightly for your liking, and instructed him to use a little more force. He listened to each of your words with an eagerness, he wanted to do everything just as you said. As luck would have it, he learned quickly enough and soon you were dangerously close to tipping over the edge.

You thrashed beneath him as finally, blessedly the tightness in your core shattered and electric shocks of ecstasy danced through your body. They burned away and left you buzzing with an all encompassing satisfaction. You gently guided his hand away from your oversensitive sex as you came down from your high. Max withdrew his rapidly softening length from inside you and it was followed by another gush of your combined fluids that dripped messily down to the ground below. He thought he had never seen anything better.

“That was perfect,” you sighed. “Was it good for you?”

Max nodded, but when he realized that you couldn’t see the motion through your closed eyelids he added, “Perfect.”

You wanted to lay in Max’s arms forever, but you soon realized that if you didn’t appear at the campfire soon, the others would start to wonder what was taking so long. In most cases, after this much time you would already be dead or have escaped. It wasn’t normal for a lone survivor to last for so long.

You slowly disentangled yourself from him. He didn’t want to let you go, but he did. He watched you stand and gather your clothing, wiping away would you could of the dirt that clung to the sweat on your back. You looked down at the mess that was your pussy before resigning yourself to a few minutes of discomfort as you slid your panties back on, delicate fabric cradling the cooling cum against your lower lips. You quickly redressed yourself before turning back to Max.

“I can still have the hatch?” You asked as you handed him his clothes, only half teasing. “I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

Max nodded while struggling back into his jeans. After all that, he would have happily taken a thousand years of punishment from the Entity.

You smiled before leaning in to kiss him lightly, chastely on the corner of his crooked mouth. You let your hand linger on his arm for another moment before heading to the place where the Black Lock hummed continuously. “I’ll see you at our normal spot,” you promised.

With a hop, you dropped into the blackness beyond the opening of the hatch, leaving Max alone in the cornfield. He waited eagerly for the darkness to settle over his vision that meant the Entity was removing him from the trial. The sooner he was out, the sooner he could get back to you, and the thought of you waiting for him filled his heart with warmth. Letting you go was the best idea he had ever had.


End file.
